


oops, my mistake

by cettevieestbien



Series: ghost bucky [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Gen, Ghosts, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multiple Personalities, Pre-Slash, WS!Bucky/Modern!Steve, dead bucky barnes, property damage, slight GDoV, very very slight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 08:44:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6072709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cettevieestbien/pseuds/cettevieestbien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>James the Poltergeist goes a little crazy, and the only way Steve can stop him is by giving an impromptu love confession. Tune in to see what happens next, here on Oops, My Mistake</p>
            </blockquote>





	oops, my mistake

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I am so sorry it took so long to get this out. A recent comment on one of the other fics kicked my ass into gear and I finally finished the third part - I'd started this doc on May 17 of 2015, if you're wondering just how much I have procrastinated. Speaking of, I have a huge project I'm supposed to be doing but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Not beta'd, but I went through a few times and checked. Tell me if something's up, please!

Steve’s voice rang out, cracking because he was frightened, and James dropped the mangled coffee machine, not reacting to the crash from it hitting the floor.

 

“What,” he finally croaked, and he flickered because of his focus going towards making his voice come out.

 

“I’m in love with you, you goddamned moron!” Steve almost shouted. God, he didn’t have the money to repair all of this, and Tony probably wouldn’t want to help him. Tony didn’t like helping Steve when James messed up things, all because he was scared of him.

 

He fell to his knees, trying to clean up as best as he could. But the mess was large, and scattered, and in places, dangerous. Was that his lamp? Was that his favorite coaster?

 

Was that the trinket his mother had gotten him on his last birthday where she was alive?

 

God, it was, wasn't it?

 

Oh, what was he going to do with Bucky? Why did he even  _ do _ this? Neither Bucky nor James had ever done  _ anything _ like this. This wasn't normal!

 

He covered his face with his hands, trying not to cry and failing.

 

“Dammit, James,” Steve said into his hands.

 

“I… I thought you were leaving,” the ghost said, and Steve sank even farther into the floor than he had been already.

 

“God,” Steve cried, voice cracking. The scene of his place post-James-the-poltergeist-tornado had ratcheted up his heartbeat, and he was sweating and shaking, and he was so,  _ so  _ nervous. “Why would you think that?”

 

“You were acting weird. You started pulling away. I - I’m sorry.”

 

“‘ _ Sorry _ ’ won’t buy me all this stuff back! ' _ Sorry _ ' won't get me my unreplaceable, very important,  _ stuff  _ back! And I can’t just tell my insurance agency that a ghost did this! They’re going to think I’m insane!  _ God _ ,” Steve repeated, and continued to hide his eyes in his palms.

 

James just watched him, feeling guilty. But he was focusing on something else that was said, trying not to dwell on what was being said.

 

“You said you loved me?”

 

“I said it twice,” Steve muttered petulantly, starting to calm down slightly at the sound of James’ voice. He didn’t get to hear it often - Bucky liked to write his words out more than speak them, and James didn’t like to communicate with him at all.

 

His voice was naturally breathy, it came with being dead, but it was deep, and it sounded like Steve's father’s had. Of course, his father had had an Irish accent, and Bucky had a Brooklyn one, but still, both were thick. It soothed his nerves enough for the tears to slow down.

 

Even as the tears stopped, the shaking that had started earlier, probably when he first saw the damage, got worse. And his breathing started hitching.

 

James winked out of visibility, and came back a minute later. He handed Steve his inhaler, and floated away from him, willing the glass shards to the corner of the room.

 

James cleaned up the room, mostly making piles, leaving Steve to calm down.

 

When Steve’s breaths evened out and his lungs unclenched, he lifted his head to watch. James pretended not to notice his red rimmed eyes. He turned away and continued trying to make the infernal vacuum cord to go into the circle formation Steve was great at making, but he, himself, was not.

 

Steve stumbled to his feet and took the cord, and wrapped it around the vacuum. Then, he just stood and stared at James, who was slowly giving way to Bucky.

 

“Were you really that scared of me leaving?” He seemed shocked.

 

James/Bucky shrugged. “I… I don’t know. I just didn’t want to be alone again. I’d been alone for so long, and then you came and…. I don’t want you to leave.” He looked down, embarrassed.

 

Steve sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, looking around at his living room. His belongings were all in shambles, piled on top of broken pieces of miscellaneous stuff. The ghost wasn’t forgiven, but Steve understood.

 

“Steve…?” James/Bucky whispered.

 

Steve sighed again, mind made up. “Look, we aren’t gonna talk about this yet, because I have to fix all of this up,” he waved a hand toward the rest of the room, “but don’t think we aren’t going to talk.” He gave the dead man a hard look, and then went for the pile closest to him.

 

Bucky sighed in relief, relishing for a moment about how he didn't have to talk about it just yet, and went to help him.


End file.
